Scene Archives

stalks around the remaining stalls, winding a serpentine path through the cracks of the remaining shoppers, his head and eyes darting this way and that, looking for something particular.

lightly hums a four-note progression, low high high low, low high high… “Shawl, foods, foods, wares, fur-ni-ture…”

is simply sitting, cross-legged, beneath a big tree at this point–the market is built around several of them (let’s be real, it’s Almachadta, everything is built around trees)–half-drowsing, half-watching the passersby. If this is odd behavior, well, he certainly doesn’t seem to think so. Though his eyes grow more focused and intent as he watches the Awoken pass by, tracking him curiously.

‘s eyes pass over Wolf, over to the next stall- there’s a sudden stop as a smile crosses his face and the winding path starts to gradually straighten as he makes a tighter racing line towards the man. Curiously, he has his head and eyes locked in place at the point where his gaze passed Wolf, but when he reaches him, he turns face him.

: “Hey there, Wolf! Looks like a comfy place to rest.”

definitely gets more upright and alert as the other approaches, one eyebrow arching up fractionally at that…unusual…approach. He smiles, though, slightly, at the Awoken’s words. “Few places more restful. To me, at least.” Another one of those dog-like headtilts. “Have you been finding all you needed?”

: “It’s been perfect and wonderful, here-” He spins once, showing off the irrica needlework on his mantle, holds out his frilled-and-functionable cuffs for Wolf to examine.

: “I’m looking for one more bit too, think you could help me out?”

: “A sudden gift gave me an idea.”

chuckles, duly admiring the work–it truly is excellent, no less than he would expect from the creator. “I will try, at least. What do you seek?” He smiles affably as he says it, but…there’s something in the intensity of that wolf-green gaze which suggests it’s a question with more than one edge.

: “Protection. But not armor. Not like, for deflecting a sword, although it may help with that too.”

meets his intense gaze with a wide eyed stare of his own. “Iconography, symbols, ephemeral meanings…”

narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “A…ward?”

: “Something to make a charm out of, to hang this through and throughout.” He produces a spooled length of shimmering azure embroidery that matches his hair and eyes.

: “Ward, charm… however they’re called here! I want to do right, locally.”

: “I see.” His face gives little clue as to whether he does or does not, in fact, see. He reaches out and traces a surprisingly gentle fingertip across the embroidery. “This holds great meaning to you, then?”

nods, but keeps his eyes locked on Wolf’s as he does. “Yup. It was a gift, and I plan on displaying it with pride and care.”

: “Hmm.” It’s less a word than a low tone deep in his chest. “The simple answer, of course, would be to find a fine piece of material of a kind one has skill in working–wood and stone would be easy enough; metal is harder but not impossible.” He looks back up at the Awoken from the piece of embroidery, a small smile playing around his lips. “If one were being quite traditional, however…”

: “Go on…” He leans in a little bit.

: “…then what one seeks is not purchased, but found. A piece of amber from a great ancient of the forests. A blood-stone made from the heart’s blood of a great beast, challenged alone. A crystal found in a deep cave no mortal foot has trod in. In all cases…the culmination of a quest, a journey, a seeking.” He glances down at his sash, rubs a thumb along the dark, sleek shaft of his flute; smiles with a distant warmth–then shakes himself from reverie, to meet those eyes again with a wry look. “Most people, ah…find something nice in the market.”

looks up to the Centerlight, and closes his eyes, and draws in a deep breath. “…I see.” He then leans back down, opening serious eyes framed with a straight brow, and puts a hand on Wolf’s shoulder. “I will be gone many nights, brother, but I will find you and our friends among strange paths once more.”

looks…rather alarmed, to be quite honest, and yet…places his hand atop the other’s. “If you are…sure, my friend. We are, after all, on something of a quest already. That which we have set ourselves to, may bring you to what you seek.”

blinks. “Oh! That’d be convenient.”

: “Can I use something market-nice in the meantime?”

is, perhaps, forced to use much of his yeresh-ly dignity not to simply fall over in a very un-priestly way. “I think that would be a…ah, perfectly acceptable compromise.”

: “Excellent! C’mon, help me out.” And he uses the shoulder hand to cling to Wolf’s hand, tugging at him to get up.

blinks, and is half-encouraged, half-dragged to his feet, over-jacket somewhat disheveled now. “I, uh, certainly…?”

: “Do you remember much about Almachadta legends?” he asks, staring up at Wolf, because the Awoken is quite smol. “I kind of wondered how much came rushing back once we got here.”

looks a little startled by the question, then furrows his brow and purses his lips, deep in thought. “Some? Less…than I should, I think.” He grimaces. “Though stories are more the Saint’s purview than my own. The yeresh keep the songs.”

: “Hmm…” He taps his foot and looks down and around in thought for a moment, before looking back up. “That’s close enough! If you hum a few bars, we can fake it.”

really must have something in his eyes, he’s blinking so much… “A few…well…” His eyes look up and away in recall, and then he frowns, thinking harder, until–a deep breath, and, softly… ⁂

: “Sal din hug og lat den ri og renna, med blinde augo vil du vegen finna…” He frowns and trails off–his voice is clear and steady, the melody something deep and pulsing; somehow giving the feel of something old and cold but…kind…but for just a brief moment there’s more to it, an extra resonance that’s as much inside your head as it is in his voice–and then it vanishes, and he looks almost forlorn in its absence. [X]

: “I am…sorry,” he manages, after a moment. “That was…supposed…”

: “Sorry for what?” He cocks his head to the side, blinking.

forces a small smile. “It seems my time away from here has left me with more than just gaps in my memories.”

: “Aw, I know you still got it.” He gives him a good-natured fist bump on a bicep. “You performed beautifully with Ember, and adrift, I know it was a song that led you there.”

grimaces, but nods, trying to be appropriately cheered up. Not succeeding! But trying. “True. I am…glad of that.” He does manage a smile, though it’s small and wry. “I was hoping to share that song more fully, is all. It is…” He pauses, thinking–he does not typically have much cause to explain these things. “…there are languages that are so old they have long since died, or become another tongue, and one of the gifts of the yeresh is to convey that which has been lost to time.”

pauses, the side of his mouth pulling back in sympathy. “Ah… I see.”

ducks his head, looking rather chagrined. “All songs are but an echo of the greater Song that binds us all, you see, and…those who can hear it, can reach into the Song and bring out that which was lost.”

: “The song I was trying to sing is about a…journey, I suppose. A long walk to a healing-mountain, a place said to bring wholeness to body and soul. If you can reach it.”

: “Is anything ever truly lost? Somewhere, every song echoes. Somewhere, long-cast light finds a surface to shed itself upon. Somewhere.”

looks over at the Awoken sharply, at that–almost confused–then nods, once, slowly. “Yes. Yes, that is…very true.” He smiles faintly. “I must…I must apologize, I think, my friend. I have been unsure of what to make of you.”

: “We can steal back anything from time, maybe we just need a lil’ running room.”

lightly laughs. “Yeah, I’ve gotten that once or twice.”

: “I do ask some pretty specific questions, I suppose. I like to think of them as specific and important.”

looks distinctly amused. “I’m sure. Once or twice.” A bit of an eyebrow-raise at the other. “I think…perhaps I am often unaware of the greater question the specific ones are aimed at answering.”

: “Well, if there’s a greater question, I’d just ask that instead. Sometimes you gotta work through the specific ones to get to the later ones.”

: “Like you gotta start with- are you willing to kill, then ‘what are you willing to kill’, and then finish at ‘what are you willing to kill for.’ If I asked that last one and you weren’t willing to kill at all, then we’re back to asking the first two anyhow.”

looks to the side in thought. “…then again I guess that does save time potentially, asking one instead of three.”

: “But I’m not really sure if I would have thought to ask the third if I hadn’t asked the first two, you know?”

raises both eyebrows at that, but then looks off into the sky again, in thought of his own. “It is a rather…intensive question, I suppose. Is it one that’s been on your mind of late?” A curious, slightly sharp glance at the other.

looks back to Wolf. “What, the killing one? Nah, not really.”

: “Most of the questions are mostly about or around our companions.”

: “That’s why I lead off with, ‘hey Wolf do you know legends,’ and the answer was ‘yeah kinda,’ and now we’re on to, ‘let’s go hit up some stalls while conversing about legends about the Sword-Saint.’”

: “There do seem to be many questions we have not yet had time to ask each other, yes,” Wolf muses. “About who we are, and where we are from…” He chuckles. “That does sound like a companionable way to answer some of them.”

fistpumps. “Great! Let’s get movin’.”

laughs. “Indeed. Though if we’re going to find something for your initial charm, you’ll have to tell me what you like to work with…”